


Nightmares

by TheStingingFish



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStingingFish/pseuds/TheStingingFish
Summary: Sometimes, the child has nightmares.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 229





	Nightmares

Sleep was a luxury in his lifestyle, and it was rare that Din was able to count on getting more than a couple hours at a time. He’d long ago mastered the art of catching a few moments of sleep whenever and wherever he could. Usually it was at the controls of the Razor Crest, the shapeless white of hyperspace streaking by. Once, while hunting down some Rodians on a miserably rainy little moon, he’d allowed himself to fall asleep wedged twenty feet up in a tree. 

The six hours of hyperspace between him and his next job were enticing. He had nothing else to do, anyway: he has already cleaned his armor and his weapons. He and the child were both clean and fed. He’s learned what he can about the man he’s supposed to meet on the next world. So with no other preparations, he locked in the autopilot and carried himself and the child down to the lower deck. 

Their sleeping arrangements had taken a while to figure out. The initial plan of keeping the child in his pram hadn’t worked out at all: as soon as the child figured out he was alone, and seemingly the second Din fell asleep, he would cry and fuss until Din retrieved him. But the bunk was small even for Din alone. He worried that he would somehow roll over and crush the kid, which seemed unlikely, or that the child would wake him up even more, which seemed more likely. The kid didn’t mean it, but those little claws could hurt when he kicked in his sleep. Din hadn’t been sure about the hammock at first, and it made getting into the bunk even more awkward, but the first night they tried it the child settled right down and slept peacefully for two hours without interruption. They’d made some improvements since, mostly Din giving up his best blanket to the child and the addition of some soft toys, and it worked well. 

He gently placed the child in the hammock and then climbed in himself and closed the door. He still wasn’t sure about the child’s vision so he’d developed the habit of keeping the light on, extremely dim, rather than leaving them in total darkness. 

The child clutched the edge of the hammock and babbled at Din. 

“Sleep time,” Din said. “We’ve got a good few hours. Let’s make the best of it.” 

That was answered with more insistent babbling. 

Din propped up on his elbows. “What is it? You want a story?” 

The child reached a tiny hand out and pointed. “Ba baa ba a aaa,” he said, not hiding his irritation. 

Din looked. A little stuffed bantha — made with real bantha fur — was being crushed under his leg. Din returned it to the hammock. “Sorry,” he said. “Now get some sleep.”

The child cooed, and dropped out of sight beneath the edge of the hammock. Din waited for a few moments, watching the little lump wiggle around until comfort was achieved. Then, when the wiggling had stopped and a very soft snoring had started, he closed his eyes.

* * *

Something jolted Din fully awake all at once, and he froze in place, one hand on his blaster, filtering through his senses. The unchanged noise and vibration of the ship told him the engines were fine, but something — 

“Eeeeeeeh!” 

A high-pitched whine came at the same time as the child thrashed, enough to send the hammock swaying. 

Din slowed his breathing. He sat up and scooted forward as best he could, reaching down and gently touching the child’s head. 

“Hey,” he whispered. 

The child seemed to shiver in his sleep and grunted. 

“Hey,” Din said, a little bit louder, and stroked down the child’s ear. “Wake up, kid.”

He did, dark eyes opening wide in the dim light. Then he started to cry, a slow and half-hearted wail. 

Din picked him up. “It’s okay. Just a bad dream. I get them too,” he said. 

But the child was still trembling, and reached out to cling to Din. 

With his free hand Din unfastened his chest plate and pauldron, putting them down by his feet. He pulled the soft blanket out of the hammock, bringing the bantha with it. He wrapped the blanket around the child’s little body, wishing the cold were the cause of his trembling. The child didn’t take the bantha, not wanting to give up his grip on Din. 

Carefully, Din laid back, holding the child close over his heart and rubbing tiny circles on his tiny back. 

“It’s okay,” he repeated, like a mantra. 

They laid like that, Din gently rubbing the child’s back and holding him close until the child stopped trembling, until his cries stopped and his breathing slowed. Certain he was asleep again, Din lifted his hand off the child’s back. Immediately there was a little whimper and the little weight on his chest tensed, and big black eyes peered up at Din in concern. 

“It’s okay,” Din said. “You’re safe with me. I promise. Nothing’s going to hurt you.” 

Whether it was the words or having both of Din’s hands on him again, the child relaxed again. He squirmed a little, nestling up on Din’s shoulder. Little warm breaths puffed against Din’s neck.

This time, Din stayed the way they were, long after the child was snoring again. He laid awake, feeling the weight of the child on his chest. He knew what caused his own nightmares. That a child, a baby, would have their own demons living in their head made his heart ache. He rubbed the child’s tiny back, barely big enough for his hand, gentle and soft until sleep crept back to him as well. 

“It’s okay,” Din murmured, finally closing his eyes again. “You’re safe with me. I promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> The poor kid has been through a lot and I'm glad he has a dad who understands.


End file.
